This Place
by La.Tomarias
Summary: If I could ever go back,say that I'm sorry,take one last look at Harry's face,one last smile from Remus...


A/N So yeah...I'm in a writing frenzy and can't stop typing. Just gotta keep on typin'. Well, writing, but whatever.  
  
People tell me that my stories are sad, but beautiful; so very melancholic but a lot more interesting than adventure ones. Now, that isn't my opinion. I LOVE any kind of stories. I practically worship them. What can I say? I'm a bookaholic.  
  
I've been wondering how things are going in Bellatrix's head. I mean, I've read some rather sick, twisted ones about how mentally insane she is. But maybe, maybe she isn't that crazy. I mean, what if she is something a bit more....kind of like, normal but evil. That's it. She's an evil toady. So, boo hoo, no big surprise at all. We ALL knew that Bella is evil. But another thing that seems out of place is that Voldie actually calls her Bella. He doesn't call any other Death Eater by nicknames, does he? So what's going on? Jo, you meanie, you'll have us all waiting to know what actually happen ¬¬. Ok, before I continue rambling on and on about some thing or another; I GIVE YOU, WOOD, JOHNSON, BELL, SPINNET, WEA—what? I'm not a commentator? Who said I'm not a commentator? o.O NO! STOP! STOP! My Muse is MAD. Very mad. So like, well, while I'm trying to figure out how does my Musey actually looks like, you can sit down and pop open a can of soda, grab a bag of popcorn, turn OFF the T.V. and read!  
  
------------ Disclaimer: Harry Potter, names, characters, places, situations and related issues belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Inc, and Raincoast Books.   
  


* * *

  
Some things never change. The situation doesn't change. The place, the time, the state of my clothes or my body; those are the things that actually morph and adapt into the new irony I'm in. No matter, things like that don't bother me at all. It is what I'm doing that does. My thoughts and feelings are still the same. It happened in Azkaban, it's happening here. The fact that I failed them, all of them, once again. That I've failed every time and find myself in a cell eventually. It's all the same. The exact atmosphere, if you know what I mean.  
  
There are no Dementors here, but it's not like they're missing. Just the bare fact that there is no one to be around with, even if it was a bunch of raving lunatics, is worse than having 50 Dementors passing daily throughout the corridor outside my cell. Having all of those "neighbors" had helped a little to remind me that I was innocent.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
No answer. Am I ever going to learn? It's surprising that my voice hasn't gone all scraggly and hoarse for all the times that I have called out to find someone. It confuses me deeply, there were voices coming from this place, I heard them when I was outside. According to my reasoning, there were supposed to be a few thousands wandering blokes trying to find their way out of this hole. I guess the list now includes me. But were on Earth are all the wandering blokes? That's what I want to know. But maybe, maybe we're not on Earth, maybe we're not where I think we are. What if...what if this is some sort of Heaven? Yeah, don't tell, I already figure this is a stupid idea. But still, if I happen to be wrong and this turns out to be some of weird Heaven place, that means that actual *dead* people must be here too.  
  
Now, that's a theory.  
  
I can't help to glance around one more time, just to make sure that there isn't anyone here that is undead like me. Because really, I'm NOT dead. I just happened to fall through a veil because of a curse my cousin threw at me. I'm pretty sure I'm not dead; of course, I'm in a place full of invisible dead people, yeah I can't find my way out of here, but really, I'm certainly not dead.  
  
But then, this is the part when I start to worry. Maybe I'm really dead, or just a wee bit still alive, and I'm lost here. If this is really Heaven, then where are all those tall, Elf like angels that go around singing with their harmonicas and harps and wear those frilly white robes?  
  
I smile. It's nice to know that al least here my sense of humor remains slightly unshaken. It didn't happen that way in Azkaban. If I dared as much as to remember a joke James told once, the Dementors would suck it out of me as fast as those Muggle vacuum cleaners.  
  
Prongs.  
  
I stop walking. If I had known how much time he had I would have gotten there as soon as possible. Let the bastard kill me instead of him, instead of Lily. They didn't deserve it; they were the last people to deserve it, bloody Hell.  
  
It was my fault, my fault for the thousandth time. It was me, me of all people who had told them to change the spell to the rat. What had I been thinking? What if he had found me first? Was I scared that he would manage to break the spell and that I would spit out their location? I wouldn't have let him. Let him torture me to Hades and back again. I wouldn't have let him know. Never.  
  
I shiver slightly, realization pulling me down for the millionth time in my life. I haven't really noticed the surroundings. They are rather different from the cell, but there is a strange feeling. Not still and lifeless like the prison, but more as if something is hung on in the air. And the smell, it's a peculiar smell. All those years as a dog have done something to my nose, I remember from the first time we all manage to turn into animagi. The smells were coming from every direction, a huge collection of undiscovered, strange scents. I never really thought of smells that way before, I had to remind myself that I was there for Remus, not for sniffing around like a neurotic poodle.  
  
Moony.  
  
A sharp pain makes me grasp my side and reach out for something to stable myself. I fall backwards, hitting myself on the head. Another failure. It was more than enough with James, but Remus... I wasn't prepare for letting him down too. I was an idiot. I know as a fact that I was. I'm still are if possible, some hours ago my cousin knock me down a flight of stairs and into this place. All for the sake of showing her that I was better, just like I always told her. I had to prove it one last time. Go and show off. I preferred my ego to saving my grandson and disappointing my best friend. I remember their faces. They held similar expressions. Remus' face couldn't have looked worse. Even on the old days the painful looks he would give us when the transformation would end, they were nothing compared to this.  
  
It possibly cracked my heart in two. If it didn't, my grandson's sure made the job.  
  
Harry.  
  
I gasp for breath, my chest becoming painfully tight. My temple starts to throb; I can feel the beginning of a humongous headache. I completely blew it away with that one. I promised him he would come live with me when my name was clear. Instead, I was stupid enough not to remember that it was NIGHT, with a moon, with a positively sensible werewolf, and the most disgusting rat ever to set foot on the Earth. It doesn't take Hermione to put two and two together and make three.  
  
I grit my teeth as my chest begins to hurt. It's not just an ache; it's coming exactly from a specific point and spreading around. Is this how it feels like when your time is up? When you start to remember all of the things you did wrong, all the people you failed; is this the punishment? I can't think of a better one for someone like me.  
  
A streak of moonlight lights a small pond, making the water look slightly glittery and calm. If I wasn't so delirious I'd swear it was real.  
  
I manage to crawl until I reach the edge of the water, resting my head on one of the rocks. It's smooth and cool, almost rather soft if you came to think of it. I remain still for a few moments, breathing quietly, waiting for everything to end. I close my eyes and curl myself into a ball. If I could ever go back, say that I'm sorry, take one last look at Harry's face, one last smile from Remus...  
  
I open my eyes a crack and peer down into the water. The slightly blurry outline of the moon is reflected on the surface. I smile weakly; maybe this place isn't quite so bad. I give one last sigh before my eyes close again. 


End file.
